


A Long Three Years

by wheel_pen



Series: Darkwood Eastport [28]
Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fish out of Water, Magic, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma’s recent birthday only makes Luke realize how long it will be until they’re old enough to get married. Ah, teenage angst. Fortunately he has his father to talk to, who knows a little something about dealing with the “psychic soulmate” Darkwood people call herdaya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Three Years

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe. I’ve given a lot of thought to the Darkwood culture, so if something seems confusing, feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy!

“Hey, Dad.” Cal glanced up from the article he was reading to see his second son in the doorway of his office. “You have a minute?”

“Whatever you want’s gonna need more than a minute,” Cal predicted, but he set the article aside and leaned back in his chair. Luke slouched into the room, somehow lanky without being particularly tall, hands shoved into the pockets of the black leather jacket he wore constantly. “And stand up straight!” Cal ordered. “You’re like a walking question mark.”

“Makes people think I’m taller than I really am,” Luke replied cheekily, sprawling across the couch beside his father’s desk.

“Your spine must be made of rubber,” Cal decided, watching the teenager’s careless posture. Luke didn’t even respond with a patronizing smile, however, and Cal’s eyes narrowed as he went into investigative mode. “Has this to do with Emma?”

The boy’s face registered mild surprise. “Was I making some kind of Emma-shape with my eyebrows?”

Cal rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a particularly brilliant deduction, as Emma tends to be the main focus of your consciousness these days.”

Now Luke rolled _his_ eyes, though he could hardly deny the statement. “Well, her birthday was yesterday,” the boy began, eyes roaming the shelves of books lining the wall across from him.

“I noticed,” Cal replied dryly. The party had been held at _their_ house, after all, as elaborate and crowded as the somewhat shy Emma would allow, following true Darkwood tradition. There were even several gifts for her bemused and embarrassed father—a slight tweak on the usual practice of giving gifts to the birthday celebrant’s mother, which seemed appropriate given Sheriff Burke’s status as the main custodial parent. Well, if Emma was going to be a member of the family someday, it was important she learn their customs.

“It was her _seventeenth_ birthday,” Luke emphasized, a fact of which Cal was also already aware. But he took in the boy’s expression and smirked a bit as he divined his son’s problem.

“And you’re thinking it’s gonna be a _long_ three years,” he suggested, trying not to sound too amused by the problems of youth.

“ _Very_ long, and difficult,” Luke agreed with a sigh. There was no point in being embarrassed, he decided, since _he_ was the one bringing the topic up, and his father tended to not be uncomfortable with such subjects, either. Which was in itself a little weird, but also hardly surprising for a man willing to eat human brains, as he so often liked to remind them. “I mean—grrrr—I sit too close to her on the couch and someone pops up frowning at me,” he complained, hands clenching in frustration. “I’m not supposed to hold her hand or give her a hug—let alone kiss her!” Cal nodded sympathetically. He well knew how zealous the servants could be about matters of propriety. Luke sighed hopelessly the way only a love struck teenager could. “I try to follow all the suggestions,” he added. “We’re hardly ever really alone, even away from the house. But I just… can’t stop thinking about her.”

Cal waited a moment to see if he was done. “It’s normal,” he finally assured his son. “Expected, even. You’re _herdaya_ , you’re supposed to be a bit obsessed with each other.”

Luke groaned and sagged back against the couch. “So there’s no help for it? Just three more years of kissing her hand and holding her arm just long enough to get up the stairs? This is unbearable!”

Cal tried very hard to hide his smirk. He knew only too well how his son felt, though fortunately he’d been _slightly_ more mature, or at least older, when he’d gone through it himself. He could tell the boy one truth—that the many years of marriage he would spend with Emma would more than make up for these early deprivations—but that sort of sentiment would be hard for a young man in his position to truly understand. So Cal decided to impart some information that was more of a practical nature.

“Now I’m only telling you this because it’s true, and if we were still living in the Valley you would see it more often anyway,” he began, his sober tone drawing Luke’s attention. “But I don’t want it to encourage you to do anything that would show disrespect to this family, or to Emma.” Luke knew exactly what he was referring to and nodded seriously. “But, in a year, _if_ you two get engaged”—the teenager looked like he wanted to protest the uncertainty of the event, but Cal felt it was better to remind people that this wasn’t an unbreakable contract, just in case—“I think you’ll find that the restrictions will ease up. A little bit.”

Luke’s eyes lit up. “Really? How much?”

Cal shrugged cautiously. “Hand-holding and hugging will probably be in,” he suggested. “Maybe even a _little_ kissing. But,” he added quickly, seeing the boy’s expression, “I expect you to follow _every_ restriction you’re given, even if you’re not on Darkwood land. I know this culture is totally different,” he went on, shaking his head. That was a slight understatement. “It’s sex, sex, sex everywhere. It’s more difficult for you here than in the Valley. And I don’t want you and Emma to wait because you’re afraid of being punished. I want you to wait because you understand why it’s so important, for your future life together.”

Luke was quick to respond. “Because although the physical aspect of a relationship might seem strong right now, it will be the first part to fade away. So you have to have _more_ than that to base your relationship on, or it will crumble to nothing.”

Cal raised an eyebrow at the suspiciously well-formulated answer. “Well personally I’ve always felt the Marriage Prep classes overemphasized that point,” he commented. He and Gillian had been married for nearly twenty-five years, after all, and he didn’t see any signs of the physical aspect fading. “But it’s certainly true that you need _more_ than that for a relationship. You’re gonna start a clan together. You’re gonna raise children together,” he listed. “You’re gonna add people to your clan and have to balance all their needs. You’re gonna be part of a community together. Maybe,” he added with a slight smile, “someday you’ll move to a foreign country together.” Luke smiled a bit in return. “And to do all that successfully, you have to really know and understand each other—and now’s the time to work on that, without all the physical stuff gettin’ in the way. So you don’t end up married to someone just because you thought they were hot.”

Luke nodded again, but more slowly as he really thought it over. The Marriage Prep classes all Darkwood late-teens took were extremely valuable, Cal felt, and far better than similar programs he’d seen in other cultures. But they did tend to be a bit simplistic sometimes. Or maybe he and Gillian really _were_ different. Maybe Luke and Emma would be, too.

“Did you think about all that stuff before you married Mum?” Luke asked curiously.

“Well, first I thought she was hot,” Cal deadpanned.

Luke started to laugh, then realized what he was laughing at and abruptly stopped. “Yuck!” Which made Cal chuckle in turn. “Without revealing any disgusting details,” he went on, prim yet curious, “how did you and Mum deal with it, before you were married? That was interesting,” he added in surprise, judging his father’s unexpected expression.

Cal smirked a bit, trying to take the edge off the dark look Luke’s question had elicited. “Sorry. It’s just that I would say fear of punishment was the dominant motivation for us. Well, for me.”

“Why?”

“There were…additional complications in our case,” he hedged. He wondered if he should put Luke off and consult with Gillian before revealing any more details—although really, it was him and not her who came off badly in the story. But he also didn’t want to leave the teenager with a bitter end to the conversation, since even after all this time it was a sore spot for Cal.

“What kind of complications?” Luke persisted, while his father deliberated. “Was it the age thing? She was tellin’ Emma yesterday that she was seventeen when you met, and I know you’re older than her.”

“That was part of it,” Cal agreed. “I was twenty-five, actually, and it looked like I probably wasn’t going to get married at all. And she was a minor, and in those circumstances they worry about undue influence.”

Luke frowned. “But there’s lots of clans where the head is quite a bit older than several of the spouses, and no one seems bothered by it. You and Madru, for example. Does that always make things… complicated?”

Cal shook his head. “No, it’s only a concern for the first marriage, the one that founds the clan,” he clarified. “After that you can have _huge_ age differences and no one cares. The other spouses are supposed to balance things out, keep anyone from feeling pressured or doing something inappropriate.”

If they had stayed in the Valley, Cal believed, he wouldn’t be explaining this to Luke now—the boy would’ve picked it all up from seeing the people around him, older relatives, friends. Of course he _was_ friends with other Darkwood people here, but there was still some uncertainty about how it was all supposed to work in America, especially if Americans were involved. Then again, that was a risk he and his spouses had considered when deciding whether to move or not, and the consensus had been that it was acceptable. Gillian had pointed out—privately—that they weren’t likely to keep living in the Valley for much longer anyway, so better to move somewhere with other clans where they could be themselves, instead of pretending they were two conventional (if large) families sharing a house in Stockholm or London. It _was_ somewhat ironic, however, that Cal, who so often pushed the boundaries of what was allowed in the Valley, now found himself working to preserve certain traditions against the encroachment of American mores.

“But anyway, that’s not gonna be a problem for you and Emma,” Cal went on. “There’s often a bit more forgiveness for _herdaya_ , anyway. A _bit_ ,” he emphasized warningly.

This reminder started Luke on a new track, which was fine with Cal; he wasn’t keen on explaining what _besides_ the age difference had kept him and Gillian at arm’s length until the day of their wedding. “I’ve been reading everything I can find, going through all the archives online and stuff,” he began, “but I can’t find out very much about what it _means_ to be _herdaya_.”

“Lots of vague, mystical nonsense, right?” Cal agreed, and Luke nodded. “Yeah, it’s not really something that gets serious psychological study. I guess in the past it used to be a bigger deal—like, if wife number seven was your _herdaya_ , she’d go to the top of the ladder and become the First Lady.” Luke’s eyes widened in surprise at that upset to the clan hierarchy. “But they don’t do that anymore,” Cal shrugged. “In fact you don’t really get _anything_ different for being _herdaya_ these days, nothing tangible anyway, so the Council doesn’t feel the need to define it.” His tone of mild contempt clearly conveyed his opinion of the Council’s decision in this matter.

Luke was still confused, though, understandably so. “But I mean—the girls have all their boyfriends.” Cal grimaced as he thought of his next three daughters’ male friends. “I know some of them come to the classes with us, but none of them are considered _herdaya_.”

“None of them are serious enough to be promised to each other before they’re old enough to get engaged,” Cal pointed out. “Oh, don’t feel bad about it,” he added dismissively, seeing the teenager’s expression. “I should’ve known you were up to something. It was really very impressive.”

“Thanks,” Luke replied, a bit dubiously. Only his father would praise him for his deception skills. “But is ‘seriousness’ the measure? It never happens to anyone old enough to get engaged right away?”

“It does, you can meet them at _any_ age,” Cal corrected. “But there _is_ no measure. I told you, it’s vague and ill-defined. You’re trying to make rules where rules don’t exist. I know it’s frustrating,” he added sympathetically as Luke sighed. “But you can’t quantify love and put it on a graph, or catch it and dissect it under the microscope.”

“Well _we_ can’t, but the servants _can_ ,” Luke countered. “ _They’re_ the ones who first used that word to describe me and Emma. But what’s the difference between me and Emma, and Anna and Josh? They’ve been dating almost as long, but no one talks about them like they’re… different. How do you compare how I feel about Emma to how Anna feels about Josh? Are we just going on what the servants say? What?” he asked as he noticed his father’s smile.

“You’re gonna make a good scientist someday,” Cal observed with pleasure. “It’s good to be inquisitive. You can’t just accept everything people tell you as true. Even if it comes from the servants.”

Luke was not especially heartened by these words. “Well it doesn’t do much good to ask questions if there’s no way to get answers,” he grumbled.

Cal debated something for half a second, then decided not to keep it to himself. That was also a way to be a good scientist: pass your knowledge along to others, instead of letting them stumble in the dark. “Where _is_ Emma right now?” he asked casually, as though he were moving on to idle chitchat.

“She’s at the hair salon, getting her hair cut,” Luke answered, barely thinking about it.

“Which one?”

“Shear Genius, on White Street.”

“How do you know that?” Cal probed, suddenly not casual at all.

Luke frowned, confused by the intensity of his father’s question. Then he racked his brain for the answer. “That’s what she said she was doing this afternoon,” he replied.

“What time was her appointment?” Cal pressed.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say,” Luke told him. “Why is this so interesting?”

“Well then how do you know she’s still at the salon?” his father challenged, ignoring Luke’s question. “She might be done by now, she might’ve gone on to the library or the grocery store. Or she might not’ve left home yet. No?” Luke was shaking his head firmly. “How do you know where she is, at this exact moment?”

The teenager’s mouth hung open for a moment, as though he were hoping that the answer would come to him at any second. Finally, though, he was forced to concede. “I don’t know. I just _do_.”

“D’you know where anyone else is?” Cal went on. “Don’t think too hard, just relax and let it come to you. Emily? Alice? Anna? How about Ria or Eli, or your mum?”

Luke just shook his head. “No, I can’t tell where anyone else is. I mean, I could _guess_ , but—“ He blinked, thinking rapidly. “Emma just left the hair salon. She’s walking north on White Street. How do I know that?” he demanded of his father.

Cal shrugged unhelpfully. “Your mother is out in her garden, in that bed in front of the basketball court,” he reported, without even glancing out the window—which didn’t face in that direction anyway.

“How do _you_ know that?” Luke asked, not doubting its veracity for a moment.

Cal shrugged again. It was triumph enough, he felt, to have _noticed_ this phenomenon; he had long ago ceased trying to figure out the mechanism. “Can’t do it with anyone else,” he told Luke. “But get me a map of the grounds and I’ll point to the exact spot where she’s standing. Well, kneeling, actually,” he amended.

Luke considered this information. “Is _that_ what it means? To be _herdaya_? Can all _herdaya_ do that with each other?”

“The documentation is a bit light,” Cal reminded him dryly. “It’s not always like that. But there’s always _something_ , at least that _I’ve_ seen. Sometimes people can tell what the other is feeling, even though they’re in different rooms. I met a couple once—they were both women, by the way, it’s not just a male-female thing—where if one person was in pain the other could feel it in the same place.”

“Wow,” Luke remarked. “That _definitely_ was not in anything I read.”

Cal was unsurprised. “Try reading some of the old mythology,” he suggested. “There’s some references to it there, although I don’t know how exaggerated it is. But you certainly won’t find much in the academic studies.” For a people who occupied a prominent place in the folklore of certain other cultures, the Darkwood members were strangely reluctant to believe many of their _own_ tales.

The teenager was quiet for a while, thinking. “D’you think Emma knows where _I_ am?”

“Yes,” Cal replied firmly. “I’ve tested it,” he elaborated with a smirk. “You’re both faster than the servants at locating the other.”

Luke rolled his eyes—of _course_ his father would’ve taken that opportunity for study. “Does Mum always know where _you_ are, then?”

“As far as I know,” Cal replied. “She tries to ignore it, I think. She’s said she finds it very distracting, like when I was traveling somewhere and she was in the Valley—she’d let her mind wander for a moment and then all of a sudden I would pop up on the side of a mountain or something.”

“Or sitting around a campfire, eating human brains,” Luke suggested dryly.

“Yes, well, thank goodness it didn’t come in _that_ clear, is all I have to say,” Cal responded, thinking of some of the situations he’d been in. He straightened up in his chair with some finality. “Any other secrets of life I can enlighten you about today?”

“I wouldn’t even know what to ask,” Luke admitted.

“That _is_ very important, to ask the right questions,” Cal advised.

Luke nodded his agreement and stood, preparing to slouch his way out the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned back to his father with a grin. “Emma’s on her way out here,” he reported.

“Good. Ask her to stay for supper,” Cal suggested. “You two can do _homework_ together.” They were long past the stage, at least on Luke’s side, when Emma had to call ahead and ask if it was okay for her to come over. Although Anna’s boyfriend was still completely expected to adhere to this rule—they weren’t _herdaya_ , after all.


End file.
